


Strength

by VampireBait



Category: Critical Role
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 23:02:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16027826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireBait/pseuds/VampireBait
Summary: My take on Beau being kidnapped on her Father’s orders.





	Strength

Beauregard lashed out, her fist connecting solidly, she grunted in satisfaction even as her knuckles split leaving a crimson splash on the wood as she pulled back. The pain only made her angrier so she struck again, and again, harder and harder until her vision was red with rage and her world was pain and anguish.

Her body failed her long before she was done, the tempest in her head and chest still surging with the need to fight, the need to punish someone, even herself for this injustice.

Her last swing went wide as the world flashed white and tilted at a strange angle, she felt her legs give out and the unforgiving stone of her prison rushed up to meet her.  
Beau lay on the ground, tears of anger stinging her eyes, her voice hoarse from yelling profanities at the man in front of her.

“Impressive.” His voice dripped honey, the kind of voice that made even the foulest words sweet and endearing. 

“Futile, but impressive. Your Father didn’t tell me you were this stubborn.”

Beau had just enough strength to turn and spit at his feet, expensive shoes just in view beyond the crimson stained wooden post they’d chained her to. He stepped clear with a chuckle.

“We’ll leave you to adjust to your new situation.”

She watched his boots disappear into the shadows and several others with him. Somewhere a door opened and closed.

They left her bleeding in the dark. 

Time passed, enough to make her sure they were not returning. Beau dragged her aching body up to sitting cursing that there was no wall to rest against she set her legs beneath her and tugged weakly at the chains. They’d secured manacles to her neck and wrists, all connects by a single chain attached to the post. Bound like a dog.

She had to hand it to her Father, he really knew how to hurt her, how to make her pay for her crimes. Beau treasured her freedom, her choices, he’d taken that away from her in small amounts her whole life and she’d fought back, she’d been able to fight back. 

Not this time, this time he’d torn all of it away, there were no choices here, no freedom.

She curled into a ball in the darkness her chest tight from panic. The chains on her were not tight but not loose enough to wriggle out of. Her Father’s face swam before her in the darkness, the hatred in his eyes as she’d been dragged away, the bitter conviction in his voice when he’d told her never to go back.

It hurt, not that she’d not expected it, but all the same she never thought it would hurt this much to see him turn so completely away from her. 

Swallowing hard she gritted her teeth and pushed the pain down deep, locking it away. Hours passed, maybe days lying there, she took the time to heal and pull her self apart on the inside.

She took every bit of her pain, her sadness, her rage and even the last remaining spec of love she still held for her father and locked it all away deep down inside herself until she couldn’t feel it anymore.

That first night and every night there after she made herself numb inside. She still hated the ones who came to her with food, or sticks, but she learned to hide it, learned to conceal it a bit at a time so they thought she was breaking, even started to add some deference to her motions when they spoke to her. Slowly though, controlled, as natural as she could make it to convince them, finally, to remove the chains and lead her from her dungeon. 

She waited for some weeks before she ran the first time, in truth she’d run only because she’d felt herself starting to believe her own show, the actually defer without thinking, even to look forward to some of her lessons. 

That was why she ran the first time.

It was a panic, a fear that made her go. She hadn’t thought it through, so of course they caught her easily.

It was years before she ran again. She was smarter, stronger, when she saw what they could teach her she’d taken it all, used it, moulded herself into the sort of person she’d always wanted to be, powerful, strong, and finally, free.


End file.
